Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1887-01-03

at o'clock from all directions the
women and dogs pushing their carts
were making for the market place. Ar
rived there the cart was wheeled into
line. che dog chained mp underneath it,
and it speedily transformed into a
booth. Lines would be strung around
the sides and these hung with aprons,
collars, laces, and embroderies. The
women all chartered and talked at once,
gathering over the stone street in their
heavy shoes; the dogs all barked, and
yelped, and howled at once; the babies
all cried, and the bigger children all
shouted and blew their whistles. The
narrow alleyways between the booths
were so thick with people that it was
impossible to pass along except as we
drifted with the crowd, taking in the
jargon of harsh voices, the gay variety
of colors, the waving ribbons, The vivid
tlannels, the blue embroidered baby
dresses, the coarse lace curtains, the
sparkle of the pure sunlight on the cheap
jet beads Fancy hundreds of such
shops or bazaars clustered together like
some splendid gypsy tent. Up one aisle
and down the other walls of piled linen,
roofs of gay fiannels, backgrounds of
brilliant stuffs, masses or soft. dull-col-
ored cottons, marvellous tapestry of
color-a never-to-be-forgotten MOSAIC of
life. And then we passed into the
woodenware and kitchen market. Here
in the booths were displayed buckets,
and tubs, and brassware, and dusting-
brushes, and queer little brooms made
of twigs neatly tied together about
rustic handle. Then, still in the great
square, the booths suddenly. subside, the
walls of dry goods and barbados of
household goods gave way and the vege-
table market prevailed. Here the VEN
ders had their truck piled in little hill
locks and heaps on the ground. There
were no footpaths and you stepped
around at will over the onions and po-
tatoes, and beans, and carrots, and cab
bages, and cheeses, and sausages, and
little green melons, and baskets of
prunes. The vegetable women sat on
camp-stools, and as they cried their
wares the most of them appeared to be
taking their breakfasts They had yell
low bowls OF coffee. and thick heavy
wedges of snow-white milk cheese, and
big pieces of dark bread. How pink
were the carrots and purple the plums;
how pungent the odor of the silver
skinned, tiny. round onions; how hun
cry the red-brown sausages made u.s.
We stopped at a cart piled high with
round sweet rusks, rich with nuts and
chunks of cltron, and Flo bought
cake. For all it was hot and crusty and
heavy with fruits, it was insipid and
flavorless and Disappointing Scramb-
ling over the pile of vegetables, screech-
ing at each other to make ourselves
heard over the cries of dogs and wom-
en-, we threaded our way across the
square, where the women were standing
knee-deep among their pale golden
fagots of wood, and where Kitchen
maids were buying aprons full of pine
cones for kindling, and where the air
was woodsy and sweet with the strong
pine perfume, and passed out of the
market and made our way by devious
route over 10 the cathedral to have one
last look at the Descent from the
Cross" How quiet it was in the grand
old cathedral; the one red CLEAN of the
never failing light swinging by the
marble altar, the silent church full of
glory of early sunrise. and here and
there, kneeling at some shrine or saint
or before the sad. dead Christ. being so
tenderly lifted from the crucitixion tree,
some quiet little Flemish housewife, in
her big black cloak. with her queer
little lace cap covering her bent head.
and no sound anywhere save the whis-
per of her anxious prayers. - Catherine
Cole, ia Neto Orleans Picdyune.